


The Understudy

by emmaliza



Category: Take That (Band)
Genre: 90s fic, Anal Sex, Angst, Angst and Porn, Guilt, M/M, Semi-Public Sex, Topping from the Bottom, slightly rough sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-06
Updated: 2019-07-06
Packaged: 2020-06-22 09:44:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19664869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emmaliza/pseuds/emmaliza
Summary: He thinks he knows what this is about. But he can't bring himself to say it aloud, so instead he nods, kisses Mark again, and lets him push his trousers off and onto the floor.It's their first tour without Rob, and Mark isn't taking it well. Jason tries to help.





	The Understudy

Jason catches him in a backstage dressing room, staring into the mirror, long after they should have all been shepharded onto the bus back to their hotel. For a second, his pretty, boyish face looks a million years old. “Mark?” Jason lays a hand on his shoulder, and Mark jumps. “Are you alright?”

Mark immediately plasters a grin on his face when he looks up. “Oh yeah, of course,” he says. “Sorry, was I keeping you waiting?”

He doesn't buy it for a second. Maybe it's just the lights from the mirror in front of them, but Mark's eyes look pink, like he's been crying. “That's not the point.” Jason squeezes the muscle underneath his hand. “You feel tense.”

Mark averts his eyes hurriedly, shrugging Jason's hand off him. “It's fine,” he insists. “I was just thinking.”

Outside his field of vision, Jason sighs. _First tour without Rob._ He was trying to focus on the fact they seemed to be doing alright and not worry about the rest of it, but he can't now. Not around Mark. “It's okay,” he says, when it isn't really, not at all. “You're allowed to be upset.”

“No I'm not.” Mark shakes his head hurriedly. His voice cracks like he's about to either cry or laugh. “That's not what I'm here for.”

Jason is dumbstruck a moment, and while he's off in his own little world, Mark grabs his hand like an animal snatching at its food. “Jay,” he says. “Could you stay here with me, a bit?”

 _He's so warm._ Jason can read that there is something beneath those words that he can't label at first, but it doesn't matter. He doesn't think he can refuse Mark now. “Yeah. Of course.” He threads his fingers through Mark's own, holds onto him like that will work.

Mark looks up again, baby blue eyes struggling with something. He leans up. Jason is just a second too slow to catch on; he jumps in surprise when Mark's lips land upon his own. Mark's lips are sweet and gentle, as you would expect. He still tastes of the lipgloss put on them before they headed on stage. Jason doesn't know what to do at first, and so he does nothing, letting Mark kiss him to his satisfaction. _Whatever he wants,_ says a guilty voice.

Encountering no resistance, Mark's lips grow bolder. His hand grasps Jason's shirt and pulls him down; it gets to the point where Jason's only two choices are to kiss him back, or to pull away. He kisses back. Mark moans when Jason's tongue enters his mouth, but it sounds off, fake, like something out of a porno.

When they pull apart for breath, Jason stares at Mark's face upside-down, the whole thing more disorienting for that. Mark takes a moment to make a decision, and then without a word, gets up. He perches himself on the dressing room table and grabs Jason by his shirt again. “Come on.”

Jason lets himself by dragged into another kiss, deeper, harder, needier this time, Mark's hands tangling in his overgrown hair and tugging roughly. _This isn't like him._ One of them heads south, to Jason's zipper, and starts insistently, urgently, pushing down.

Things are moving very fast and now Jason feels like he ought to say something. “Mark,” he breaks away to ask, “are you alrigh–”

A tremble sets in to Mark's body. “Please, Jay.” His other arm wraps around Jason's back and clings. “I need this.”

He thinks he knows what this is about. But he can't bring himself to say it aloud, so instead he nods, kisses Mark again, and lets him push his trousers off and onto the floor, lifting him on the table so he can return the favour. In some ways, it's a relief to see sweet, gentle Mark act like this; to _take_ what he needs, to demand anything of anybody.

Mark's cock rubs against his thigh through his briefs, and it feels hot, hard and big, much bigger than you could imagine just to look at him. Mark is beautiful, and Jason knows damn near everyone in the country, men and women alike, would give anything to be doing what he is right now. But there's only one person Mark wants to be doing it, and it's not Jason.

He grabs Mark through the fabric, squeezing and stroking until precome seeps through and onto his hand. Mark moans, squirms and bucks into his grab. “Yeah, like that.” He takes Jason's wrist, digs his fingers in. “Harder.”

Jason nods and obliges, his own cock throbbing and ignored. Mark gasps, and then with the other hand, starts fumbling for the drawers to their side. “There's vaseline in there,” he explains. Jason pauses, opens the drawer, and sure enough there is.

He lets go of Mark to take it out, passing it from hand to hand to examine this. “Are you sure about this, Mark?” Because this doesn't seem like a good idea, this is hardly proper preparation; he's read somewhere this can dissolve condoms but he doesn't have any condoms on him anyway. If this is what Mark wants, what he needs...

“Get on with it, Jay.”

Jason stops. Mark has already tossed his underwear aside, but he isn't looking him in the eye. _He's angry at me._ But can Jason really be surprised? Mark has every right to be angry at him.

He nods, taking his own pants off and slicking himself efficiently. He groans at the first touch to his prick. _Keep it together._ Mark pulls him close again, buries his face in Jason's neck. “I want it,” he whispers as Jason slides their pricks together, wanking them both off in one hand, shivering and clasping Mark's hip. “Now, please.”

There's no going back now anyway. Jason nods and pushes Mark's legs up around his waist, feeling them cling to him and hold him tight. He kisses Mark once more as he rubs his cock at his tiny little hole, still not quite believing this is happening, that he's going to do this because... why?

_Because you owe Mark this. Because you're the one who told him to go._

He pushes in and Mark groans, loudly. He's unprepared but Jason can tell he's done this before, and he thinks he knows who with. He gasps as Mark's hot, hungry hole clenches around his cock. It feels _good_ , better than any one of the thousands of girls they've had circle through their beds, and maybe that means something, but what?

Mark whimpers and scratches at his shoulders as Jason starts a rhythm, pushing in and out slowly. He kisses Mark as thoroughly as he can as he moves, from his lips to his jaw and down to his collarbone, even the occasional one to his knee. He'd leave hickeys if he could get away with it, but he can't, so instead he finds himself whispering things like _I'm sorry_ and _I love you_ and _I miss him too._ He hopes Mark doesn't hear him.

It seems Mark is too busy chasing his own pleasure to notice, soft hands reaching around to grab Jason's arse, nails digging in hard enough to leave crescent-shaped marks. “Ah, please, harder.” Jason obliges, wondering if that's how _he_ used to fuck him, rough and hard; if that's how Mark likes it. His cock pulses wetly against Jason's belly, and Jason extends a hand to catch it, wanking him off in time with his thrusts.

Mark cries out as Jason speeds up, getting close to the edge quickly. Jason keeps whispering something he hopes sounds reassuring beneath his ear, but he can't help his knees knocking together, his gasping and shivering, as Mark's hole closes around him ever tighter. _You're not good enough,_ says an ugly voice.

“Harder, harder, harder – oh!” Mark comes out of nowhere, a filthy splash all over Jason's stomach, staining his shirt. That's too much for him. Mark grips him tighter in the heat of orgasm and Jason spills, helplessly and _dangerously_ , into him, come dripping down his thighs. As he spends Jason watches Mark throw his head back in ecstasy, looking, for the first time in months, like he isn't thinking about Robbie at all.

There's a few moments of awkward silence as they both come down from the high, Jason's cock shrivelling until it simply falls out of Mark's hole. Mark starts trembling again, buries his face against Jason's neck, wraps his arms around his shoulders. Jason strokes his hair comfortingly. “Shh, shh, it's okay.”

“It's not.” Mark looks up to meet his eye. “I was so mean to you. I-I shouldn't have–”

“It's fine.” _I deserved a lot worse than that._ But he can't say that aloud; Mark would only want to comfort him.

Mark gives him some sort of expression then, but Jason can't read it. He sighs and leans into Jason's shoulder again. “We need to get out of here.”

There's a subtext to that sentence which neither of them will acknowledge. “We do.” Jason bats Mark on the back one more time and then drops to his knees, holding up his trousers supplicantly. “Come on, Gaz and Howard are waiting for us.”

Mark looks surprised for a second, and then nods, redressing himself hastily. Jason ought to do the same, but he gets distracted watching Mark. He looks as lovely as ever, and that makes it all worse.

“Are you ready to go?” Mark asks him.

“Yeah.”


End file.
